tributpoms

Bikki

I hand-raised Bikki from birth. She was my baby in every sense of the word.

At just one year old, she was found in the play area—clinically dead. No heartbeat, no breathing, completely lifeless. Fighting my own emotions, I performed CPR. When I brought her back, John and I rushed her to the emergency vet. She underwent countless tests, but nothing conclusive was ever found.

From that moment on, Bikki was kept under constant care and close observation.

She lost her beautiful coat and suffered from incontinence, so I dressed her in little disposable nappies. She had two wardrobes—summer and winter clothes, and even her own pyjamas. Despite everything, she carried on with such quiet strength.

Bikki continued to have seizures. Each time, I would hold her in my arms, talking her through them, comforting her until they passed.

She was the gentlest, most loving little soul. So intelligent, and so deeply connected to people. She won the hearts of everyone who met her—family, friends, anyone who came near her.

On Christmas Day, she would come with us to my daughter’s home. She loved being around people, content even in her little doggy pram. Not a sound from her—just quietly taking it all in. Even on car rides, she would sit peacefully, looking out the window from her safe little seat.

She was so very special.

The day she passed, she was in my arms, following a massive seizure. She was only seven years old.

John and I, along with our family and friends—everyone who knew her—shared in the grief of losing her. Her loss hit deeply, and it is still felt to this day.

My sweet Bikki, you belong in heaven now… where one day we will meet again.

We will always love you.
Time will never fade that love.

Matthew

Matthew was born with a personality that sparkled from the very start.

One of my top show winners, he took out multiple awards and quickly became known as a natural-born show-off. Everyone knew Matthew for it—and he loved every moment. When he won a sash at shows, he would proudly parade around the ring with it held firmly in his mouth, as though he knew exactly what he had achieved.

He won Best of Breed for three consecutive years at the prestigious Royal Melbourne Show, against very strong competition. In the third year, he also became the only Pomeranian to win Best Exhibit. To my knowledge, no Pomeranian before him had achieved that honour, nor since.

My precious boy, rest in peace… until we meet again.

Andy was a son of Matthew’s, and in his sire’s footsteps he rose to Champion — but not without his own little quirks.

Unlike his sire, who lived for the show ring, Andy would much rather have been a lap dog.

Before entering the exhibition ring, without fail, Andy would attempt to avoid showing altogether… by suddenly developing a “sore” leg, a “sore” eye, or a “sore” ear.

More than once, fellow exhibitors waiting in line would point out that something appeared to be wrong with my dog. I would gently assure them there wasn’t — and sure enough, the moment we stepped into the ring, his mysterious ailment would disappear.

As soon as we entered, I would stop, look down at him with that knowing expression…
His ears would go back, his tail would drop to half mast…
…and just like that — he was perfectly fine again, moving beautifully toward the judging table.

One time, he was limping on his left leg… then forgot himself and began limping on his right!

Andy, you were one little character.
And like all my fur kids, so very much loved.

Rest peacefully, my little man… until we meet again.